


Happy New Year

by VentoSereno



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Seasonal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VentoSereno/pseuds/VentoSereno
Summary: Well it's almost 2019 and it's kind of seasonal.This is NOT part of the Vignettes Series - it's just a fluffy little one-shot I bashed out this morning in response to a prompt on Tumblr.I can't pretend this is my most original work - but seasonal fluff abounds for good reason (it's great).Extra brownie-points for who can spot the Pride and Prejudice reference in the dialogue.Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

Pounding music. Multi-coloured streamers hanging from the ceiling. The promise of Fred and George’s “super-safe” fireworks at midnight: the revelries at Grimmauld Place have begun. 

Remus is standing by the mantlepiece, glass of overly-strong punch in hand, watching the party unfold.

Emmeline is standing in the middle of the dance floor, performing some bizarre jazz routine, unfazed that no-one else is joining in. Kingsley has swept up Molly in some semblance of a waltz. Several other people are swaying, more or less in time to the music, in loose groups dotted around the room. 

Tonks is there, in the middle of it all. Chatting to Bill, laughing with Hestia, letting Sirius spin her around, trying to jostle Moody into joining in. A couple of time she gestures to Remus to join in, but he shakes his head, smiling.

He’s much better off out of it. And he has the very great advantage of being able to watch her from afar, whilst pretending to be engrossed in what has euphemistically been termed “the dancing”.

He’s doing his best not to focus on how well she looks tonight: her short pink hair setting off her long neck, the silvery-grey dress that hugs her in all the right places, the way she’s highlighted her lovely dark eyes. He thinks instead of how free she is, how unencumbered, as she bops about, madly, with either one of Fred or George. Her high heels, traded in for her usual combat boots, had been abandoned by the fire place as soon as she’d walked in. 

He’s lost in reveries of her and so doesn’t notice Sirius sidling up to him.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.”

There is something almost unbearable about the way Sirius does this, reading Remus’ thoughts and effortlessly presenting them back to him, in a way that he has no right to after twelve years of absence. 

It always causes Remus to over-react, which he knows is precisely the wrong thing to do. 

“Fuck off, Padfoot”. 

Sirius smirks, secure in the knowledge that he’s once again struck a nerve, as he slops more punch into both their goblets. Remus sighs inwardly, knowing there is nothing he can do to stop the tirade now.

“You should ask her out.”

“No.”

“Look at the poor lamb – she got all dressed up for you, and you won’t even do her the courtesy of dancing with her.”

“Leave it, Sirius.”

“…And you’re just standing about in this ridiculous manner, staring at her like your eyes are about to fall out of your head. Where’s your Gryffindor courage? 

Remus shakes his head and walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours later, it’s Tonks’ turn to be sitting on the sidelines, resting her tired feet on the sofa. The party is winding down now. Hestia has fallen asleep, head slumped onto the table. Molly is chasing Fred and George to bed, while Arthur has begun tidying up.

She knows she ought to get up and help, but she is busy watching Remus. He’s on the other side of the room chatting to Kingsley and Emmeline. He looks comfortable, at ease with himself, as he pours out the last of the wine into Emmeline’s cup. 

Tonks can’t pretend to herself that she isn’t a little disappointed. Midnight had come, and gone, with no hint of any kiss between them. Not a peck on the cheek, not a hug. He’d been on the other side of the room to her, in fact, and had studiously been avoiding her eye. 

Instead, on the stroke of midnight, she’d been approached by Dung, pathetically leering at her. She’d threatened to pluck out both his eyes and use them as garnishes in her drink, but if anything, that seemed to have spurred him on. 

Happy New Year.

She stretches, and sits up, getting ready to move. Before she does so she casts one last look at Remus, who is holding the door open, waving Dedalus off. 

She’d been looking forwards to this party for ages, had viewed it, sub-consciously, as some kind of turning point. What better excuse could there be, with dancing, and alcohol, for a little more confidence, a break-through to a more profound intimacy? 

She’s mulling over these gloomy thoughts and doesn’t notice Sirius plonking himself down beside her, slopping firewhiskey all over himself as he does so.

He’s very drunk.

“Why don’t…take a picture? It’ll last longer!” It comes out more slurred than earlier in the evening, and he punctuates it with sharp bursts of laughter. 

“What?” She’s not listening to her cousin, she’s trying to catch what Emmeline is saying to Remus. Why is she whispering to him? But Remus is looking away, at her and Sirius, frowning.

Sirius tugs at her arm until she’s paying attention to him. “You” he points at her. “Him” he lifts his arm and yet more alcohol falls to the ground. “Ridiculous” he finishes, proud of having expressed his feelings so movingly and yet so succinctly. 

Remus is still looking over which makes her flush. “Fuck off, Sirius”. 

“Ah! That’s what he said! You see. Two peas in pods!” roars Sirius.

“Shut up! He’ll hear you!” Then, in a whisper “What did he say earlier? Was it about me?”

The eagerness behind her question sobers Sirius. She’s turned to him, eyes wide and hopeful, cheeks rosy with emotion. All of a sudden she seems so young, so unspoilt. For the first time Sirius gets a sense of why Remus is so afraid of getting too close to her. 

Also for the first time, Sirius is at a loss for words.

They’re sitting very close together when Remus comes upon them. His appearance makes her jump, and she feels oddly guilty as she repositions herself, further away from Sirius. 

“Don’t let me interrupt your tête-a-tête” Remus says, kindly, though there is steel in his voice and his expression, aimed at Sirius.

Sirius makes to stand, staggers, leans heavily on Remus’ shoulder. “Nonsense! Bed time for me. You two clear up, would you?”

“Tonks is not your maid. I’m sure she’d like to go home now.”

“I don’t mind” she begins, but she is drowned out by Sirius’ tirade. “I DEMAND the two of you stay down here a while longer. I am the master of this house. You will…” He interrupts himself with a burp of prodigious volume, which makes them all laugh despite themselves. 

He stumbles his away to the door, ushering Molly and Arthur out with him, talking over everyone’s protests. “Help me up the stairs, would you, Arthur? Remus loves to tidy Molly, it’s the only fun he gets. Pointless to argue with him. I assure you he loves it, absolutely loves it. He and Tonks must not be disturbed. On pain of death..” His voice is drowned out by the kitchen door slamming behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

The kitchen feels very quiet all of a sudden. He looks at her, still sitting on the sofa, feet folded underneath her as she looks at him quizzically. Suddenly, they both break out into grins. 

“He’s an utter moron.”

“Appalling.”

“I can’t apologise enough.”

“Why should you apologise? He’s my family, and his behaviour has got nothing to do with me.”

They keep smiling at each other and he sits himself down next to her. His hands go to the fabric near him.

“How much of his drink did he spill onto the sofa?”

“Oh, almost all of it.”

And they laugh again.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I want to stay.”

There. She’s said it now.

“I’m not sure I’ve got anything to entertain a modern witch of your calibre. More music, perhaps? Or another drink?”

“Hot chocolate would be nice. And a bit of conversation.”

He smiles at her. “Your wish is my command.”

He makes to stand, and as he does so, looks up. A huge bit of mistletoe is looming towards them.

“Merlin’s beard..”

She follows his gaze and laughs.

“That is absolutely classic Sirius..”

“You have no idea what it was like to grow up with him, Tonks. Torture. Absolute torture.”

Her eyes are glistening. “I want to hear all about it.”

“And so you shall, after I dismiss this and banish it straight up his..”

She puts an arm out to stop him. “No.”

“No?”

She shakes her head. “Sirius thinks he can mess with us, and get us all shy and embarrassed by playing this school-boy prank on us. I say let’s play him at his own game. If we send that back to him, he’ll know he got the better of us.”

Remus heartbeat has picked up. She isn’t meeting his gaze, staring up at the offending mistletoe instead. “So what do you propose?”

“We have a very professional, respectful new year’s eve peck. The mistletoe will disappear, and Sirius will be DYING to know what happened. And we shan’t say a word.”

The logic of this reasoning is completely lost on him, but he doesn’t care. Kiss Tonks. Kiss Tonks to Get Back at Sirius? Sure, whatever. As long as he gets to Kiss Tonks.

“Ok.” He says softly. Finally she looks at him. “Ok.” she repeats, suddenly unsure. 

He scoots a little closer on the sofa as she turns to him, sitting on her heels. “Ok” he repeats again, to give himself some courage. “Right.” She agrees.

She leans in, he follows, and their lips brush together. Softly at first, and then more insistently. Her eyes are closed and he lets his fall shut too. Her arms wrap around his neck, and he wraps his tentatively around her middle. More pressure. Her mouth opens to allow a suggestion of deepening the kiss. In a moment, which seems both a fraction of a second and a small eternity, they are kissing hungrily, needily. All pretence of professionalism or a dry peck on the cheek forgotten. 

She’s slid onto his lap and he's pressing her body closer to his. Her hands are in his hair and his are itching to find the zip of her dress. 

There is a movement on the stairs.

They break apart for air and look up. The mistletoe has vanished.

“Well that certainly did the trick” He’s short of breath, his voice deeper and raspier than usual. 

More movement on the stairs. “Kreacher?”

He nods. “Very likely. But perhaps we should retire to..somewhere more private. Only to avoid being discovered, I mean.”

She laughs. “Is that your way of inviting me up for a night cap, Remus?”

He grins, shily. “But not – please don’t feel obliged. Of course if you’d rather go back to your own home…”

She interrupts him by apparating them both to his bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

The kitchen door opens, and Molly slips her head round it to peer into the kitchen. She’d heard the “pop!” of apparition a moment before. The candles are still burning bright, and Tonks’ heels are abandoned by the dying fire. There is no sign of Remus.

Molly nods to herself, satisfied, and waves her wand to snuff out the candles.

As she slips into bed next to her husband, Arthur whispers “Well? Did the mistletoe work?”

“I think so…”


End file.
